“Same.” Suri strode over to one of them and rapped it with her fist. It was hollow. “Hey, look... if you interact with them, you get some information.”
Curious, I went to the one nearest me. It was an eerie-looking thing, with a pyramid-shaped head and a circle of eyes, six floating arms, and no legs: just a series of rings that had been mounted with metal rebar to show how the torso floated above them.
[Perilous Symphony: the oldest of the true piloted Warsingers, it turned the tide against the Drachan for the first time in history. Renowned for its incredible sonic weaponry. Boy Soprano.]
“Wow...” I moved to the next one, which in my opinion, was even more badass than Withering Rose. It had a wary, angular, speed-demon kind of look about it, reminding me strongly of an EVA from my grandpa's favorite anime, Neon Genesis Evangelion. It was vaguely insectoid, patterned with diamonds and wielding wicked hand-embedded claws. A great spiked corona hung behind its head, with rays of different lengths projecting from the halo's ring.
[Black Mercy: A young Human-built Warsinger made for speed and camouflage, this agile artifact possesses the highest melee kill count of any Warsinger – as well as the record for murdering its own pilots. Drone Bass.]
“Murdering… its own pilots?” I winced, crossing over to examine the statue Suri had first visited: the bestial, vaguely dragon-like one we'd seen painted on the wall of the Shrine.
Karalti sniffed curiously at the next statue in line. “Some of these look so weird.”
[Lunar Conviction: A powerful melee-focused Warsinger credited with the destruction of General Kithras, the Rostori who commanded the Drachan's slave army. Baritone.]
The older Warsingers had alien, almost experimental designs, while the younger ones were mostly humanoid. All distinct works of art, one was clearly modeled on a unicorn, another a mountain goat. They all had pretty epic sounding mecha names: Perilous Symphony, Lunar Conviction, Radiant Eclipse, Pure Land, and Hanging Star. Black Mercy had a fast, ninja-like build. The second youngest, Killing Frost, was something of a throwback to the weird designs of the early Drachan War period. It was little more than a great big floating pod, its body wrapped in a sweep of Seraphim-like wings, its face an eerily beautiful, sexless mask. It had no legs... so I guessed it probably floated.
Taking pride of place above them all was Withering Rose. Even her statue radiated charisma and elegance. She stood in a casual warrior’s posture, her empty hands cupped around the hilt of absent swords. One would have been resting over her shoulder, the other pointed down at the floor. Her huge corona was cleverly articulated along rebar, so that it appeared to float behind her. One elegantly pointed foot rested on the severed avian head of what could only be an Aesari, boring into it, while the other hovered several inches above the floor.
“It’s missing its weapons,” Suri said. “And look at its feet. How does it even walk on those big spikes?”
“My guess is that it doesn’t,” Rin replied. “The major weaknesses of humanoid Artifacts are climbing and tripping. If they fall over, getting them back up is really not fun. Neither is dealing with people rappelling up the legs. Given the way they posed her, I suspect she might actually float.”
“The best machines are the ones with multiple failsafes, no wasted features, and that do the job they need to do,” I said, remembering something my D.I. had once told us. I approached the statue, and got a brief description, just like the others.
[Withering Rose: The youngest of all the Warsingers, she was constructed at the peak of the Drachan War. This Warsinger is considered to be the finest ever built, inspiring armies and claiming more Drachan and Aesari lives than any other. After being recovered and repaired, she was attuned to Sachara Ha’Shazir, an Aga warrior who used her to forge one of the largest human empires in history. Contra-alto.]
“So uh... what do we do here, exactly?” Suri looked around warily, as if expecting the statues to come to life and jump us. “Do we have to find the missing weapons? I’m not seeing any.”
“Yeah. And this door’s definitely locked.” Karalti was standing in front of them, looking up in wonder.
“You know, I have no damn idea.” I scratched my head. Other than the statues, there was nothing in the room. No switches, no oddly colored tiles… but then I had a bright idea. “Hey, wait a second. Are you any good at singing?”
Suri chuckled. “Yeah… no.”
“We might have to pretend. The descriptions of the Warsingers all have a musical pitch at the end.” I wandered back to Killing Frost. “See? This one's is 'Soprano'. I bet we have to like… sing at them.”
“The only way you might squeeze a soprano out of me is if you kick me in the crotch,” she replied flatly. “I can squawk a bit and see if I accidentally hit the right note on the alto and contra-alto?”
“Ooh! Voices! I might be able to help!” Karalti said.
“You don't have a voicebox, Tidbit.” I paused in front of the baritone statue. “No larynx that can sound human speech, at any rate.”
“I still have vocal cords, silly. I can't speak with them, but I can mimic a whole bunch of things. I've heard instruments, people singing, all kinds of noises... playing with those sounds is fun.” She came up beside me, and let a couple of experimental chirps before opening her mouth and blaring out a surprisingly masculine: “AHHHHH!”
Lunar Conviction's eyes kindled to life with white-orange points of flame, though it didn't move.
“Yay! Best at voices!” Karalti pumped her fist, and ran to the unicorn-like statue of Pure Land. “What's a mezzo-soprano?”
“Kind of high. But not too high.”
One by one, we went to each statue, with Karalti mimicking everything from a pure childlike cry she'd overheard in Taltos, to the deep contra-bass of a randy bull hookwing calling for his mate. When we reached Withering Rose, Suri held up a hand, cleared her throat, and let out a pure, deep, but absolutely feminine note: the contra-alto.
The six angular grates in Withering Rose's helmet flared to life, and as they did, the light gathered in each of the statues and then floated up out of them. They gathered together, forming a ball of pure white light.
“Blood of my blood.” a throaty, soft woman’s voice purred in Dakhari, raising goosebumps on the back of my arms. “If you are here, you have come seeking me and my weapons. Return the tools of Queenship to my hands, and you may pass to your final trial.”
The white ball, spitting plasma, streaked off toward the door. It splashed against the metal, but passed right through it. There was a crunch from behind us, and we turned to see a section of floor rolling back to reveal a flight of stairs leading down into the earth. A weird sound pealed out from the depths... a repetitive scraping sound that sounded like someone drawing a knife blade down rough mortar, echoed a hundred times over. Karalti winced and clamped her hands over her ears.
“What is THAT sound?” she said. “It’s awful!”
“Okay. THAT is a Boss arena.” I nodded, pulled the Spear, and took point.
Chapter 50
The sound started to resemble the sound of marching boots as we started down. It was incredibly loud - so loud that I almost didn't see the pair of glossy blue-black insects bumbling toward us down the narrow tunnel. They were lean and leggy, with triangular faces, pinched waists, and bulbous abdomens with pulsing stingers. Small wings constantly flicked along their sides, though they looked too small for them to fly. I tensed, adrenaline kicking up the pair of [Wormhunter Wasps] moseyed around... seemingly disinterested in our presence.
“Oh no,” Rin moaned. “Guys, I’m sorry: I need to nope out of this. I can’t do bees or wasps… I really can’t.”
“No worries. Disconnect for now, and we’ll call you once we’re out of here.” Suri reached for her axes.
[Rin Lu has disconnected from Party Video Chat.]
“Wait. Wormhunter?” I eased down. “You know, there's a bunch of wasps that punch above their weight in the predation department. What if
these guys prey on the sandworms?”
“That might explain why there's not a million sandworms rumbling around here,” Suri said. “Kill 'em?”
“Let’s wait and see what they do. I’m not convinced they’re hostiles.”
“Want me to bioscan it?” Karalti asked.
“Go ahead.”
Wormhunter Wasp (Workers)
HP: 500/500
MP: N/A
Weak against Water
A heat-loving underground species of giant wasp. Wormhunter Wasps are so named because they prey on the grubs of Giant Sandworms, dragging paralyzed grubs into to their huge, labyrinthine hives to feed their own ravenous young. They are not usually aggressive toward humans unless attacked, but if disturbed, the larvae will call for help.
“Yeah. Let’s leave these guys alone unless we really need to not.” I stood still as one of the wasps bumped into my boot, buzzing, and felt around with its antennae before turning and tottering back down the hallway.
The corridor twisted and turned, leading us into a room that might have once been a shrine, but which was now a nursery. The scraping sound was deafening, blending with a deep bass hum. The floor, walls, and ceiling were covered in hexagonal cells made of congealed sand, about half of which were full of fat white grubs. Adult wasps crawled over the nest, frantically passing a gooey white paste into each pair of gnashing jaws. The sound was deafening, because the grubs not getting attention methodically scraped their mandibles down the sides of their cells, begging the adults to feed them. The source of the food was a single white sandworm grub, partly eaten and bound with silk to one corner of the nest.
Naturally, the lever we needed to pull was on the other side of the room, surrounded by larvae cells.
“Alright, America, it's time to play everyone's favorite game: The Floor! Is! Larvaaaa!” I jazzed my free hand in the air.
“Do we have to?” Suri surveyed the writhing room with an expression of bleak resignation.
Quite a few of the cells had soft cottony covers mounded over them, while others were sealed over with what looked like a blend of wax and sand. Small white shapes thrashed under the translucent surface, but those cells looked sturdy enough to stand on. I picked my way over, hopping from cell to cell and being careful not to step on anything to either side.
“You know...” Karalti said, once I reached the lever. “These bugs actually look pretty tasty.”
I made a face, judging the distance I had to reach. “Karalti. I don’t care how hormonal you are: do not eat the hot throbbing larvae.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Suri massage her brow and the bridge of her nose. “Hector. I never want to hear you say those words in sequence ever again.”
“Meet new singles in YOUR area! Visit www-dot-hot-throbbing-larva today!” Giggling to myself to stave off the abject terror of being within inches of the wasp grubs’ snapping mandibles, I eased toward the lever, keeping one eye on the bugs, and pulled it forward.
There was a clunk, but not from above. Instead, a pair of long-undisturbed doors behind the wasp nest slid apart, and before I could even scream a horrified 'no!', tore open all of the cells that covered it. A horrendous whistling went up from all of the wasp grubs, and they began to whip from side to side in their cells, gnashing their little teeth and waving their chubby legs.
“Oops! Okay! Time to go!” I dashed through the colony as the adults buzzed angrily, dancing around so as not to step on any more grubs on my way out. Suri didn’t bother.
The workers ran after us as we pelted through the nest and into the high-ceilinged corridor beyond. I turned to smack one away with the spear, sending the others scattering. As one, they turned and scuttled back toward the nest.
“Yeah! You run!” I shook my fist at them. “You call yourselves wasps!? You’re just a bunch of pussy-ass ants!”
“Hector.” Karalti backed up into me. “Turn around.”
From the other direction, at least twenty wasps boiled toward us along the walls and floor. These [Wormhunter Wasp Soldiers] were bigger, blacker, and meaner than their worker cousins. Each was about the size of a Doberman pinscher, with mandibles capable of clipping my head off like scissors and huge stingers that dribbled venom. The corridor was wide enough for two of us to fight abreast, but not any more than that.
“One day, I swear to Khors, I’m gonna tape your mouth shut.” Suri rushed in. “Stay back and buff if you can!”
I circled, trying to find a way to help, but this fight was up to Suri. The wasps mobbed her, stinging wildly, but nine out of ten times, their spiny butts slid off her heavy plate armor without dealing any damage. She blasted circles through the clump of their bodies, and when the carnage was over, the hallway was covered in insect parts, insect goo, and small loot bags.
“This looks like stuff you'll want.” Suri grimaced after checking one. “For potions and shit.”
“Hell yeah! Potions and shit!” I wiggled my fingers over the first bag. “Let’s see here… Giant Wasp Guts – mm-mmm – and Giant Wasp Venom. Splendid! I’ve heard that goes marvelously in tea.”
“You're so full of it.” She shook her head, flicking ichor off her blade.
“Full of venom? Yeah. Among other things.” I stuffed [Giant Wasp Venom x 25] and [Black Chitin x 20] into my Inventory, and moved to the next bag. There was something in there other than monster parts. “Oh shit. This one has a key. You know what that means, right?”
Suri visibly braced herself.
“It was the Bee-key-per!” I chortled.
Karalti groaned.
Suri leaned toward me, sword clutched in her hands. “I WILL destroy you.”
I paused for a moment. “Don’t you mean… punish me?”
We ran the rest of the way down the tunnel: me laughing hysterically, Suri in hot pursuit, Karalti confused but happy to be running.
Wasp tunnels were bored into the walls to either side, full of agitated insects. They were making the marching boots sound by flicking their wings all together at the same time. No more of them came out to attack us, though. Instead, they began to scuttle away into the depths of their hive, ignoring us entirely as a distant bassy rumble reverberated through the floor like distant thunder.
“Don’t tell me,” Suri groaned.
I grimaced. “Surely the game wouldn't do that, would it?”
“Throw a Level 100 giant monster at us? Probably,” Suri replied. “With the exception of Rin, all the Architects we've met have been assholes.”
Well, now that she mentioned it... “Good point.”
The key-locked door was one of four at the end of this hallway. We found some loot inside of stone chests: copper, iron and a mysterious ‘ancient ore’; several Harpy Claws, a gold bar worth 100 olbia, a papyrus scroll containing a spell, Holy Boon, that none of us could use but that could probably be sold. We also found a map of the Rose Vault, which showed us that the locked door was the Trophy Room: our last stop once we were done looting.
“Alright. My hunch is that we’re up for a fight in here.” Suri inserted the key and looked to us. “Ready?”
I gave her a thumbs-up, and Karalti did the same. Suri nodded, turned the lock, and then kicked the door in ahead of her.
The room beyond was round, almost like an underground tower. The ceiling was just a mass of pipes, all feeding into the wall on our right. The floor had a golden ring around the edge of it, and lit alcoves that displayed weapons of all kinds. There was a pair of finely worked scimitars, a spear and sword combination, even a pair of pistols. There were also some tools: a fine hammer and level were also on display. On the other side of the room, directly across from the door, was a row of chests.
“Huh.” Suri frowned. “Guess we were both wrong. No boss, no monsters. Just the wasps.”
“You sillies! There won’t be a boss in the trophy room! It’s just treasure!” Before I could stop her, Karalti squeezed past me, danced out into the middle of the room, and was dumped down into a trapdoor
with a short shriek of surprise.
“Fuck! Karalti!” I pushed past Suri, who grabbed my arm and hauled me back as the hole in the floor continued to expand, tiles collapsing in like dominos. It stopped collapsing inward when it reached the ring: and then, a chorus of mechanisms began to grind and turn. The door behind us slammed and locked as the floor rose up, pushing Karalti and a giant into view.
The creature had to be undead: undead in the way a vampire was undead. He was about fifteen feet tall, ugly as hell, lurching against the glowing chains that bound him toward Karalti as she scrambled away. She bounced back with a scream as it broke one chain, then the next, then lunged for us all. I dashed to the side; Karalti scrambled away, less gracefully. But Suri, still standing near the door, froze like a deer in the headlights.
The [Rostori Brute] let out a wet bellow and then, arms open wide, charged straight at her. It was disturbingly fast. We could do nothing as Suri came to her senses a second too late. The ogre bodyslammed into her, picked her up around the waist, and smashed her into the wall once, twice, three times before throwing her across the room and into the smooth tiled wall between eaves.
[Suri takes 1800 reduced bludgeoning damage!]
[Suri is unconscious!]
“Fucking fuck-!” I leaped into the air and came down on the back of the brute's neck with the Spear, the blade driving in through flesh and bone. But when I yanked it out, it was clean. Instead of blood, a thick black ooze welled up from the puncture while the Brute roared and twisted, and as I jumped back, it clotheslined me in mid-air. The blow shaved a cool 350 HP off my ass and sent me flying. I hit the wall and bounced for another 50. Pain rocketed through my torso, but I landed in a spring crouch, and flew straight back at it. “Karalti!”
“I'm on it!” Karalti circled back away from the raging monster as he whirled toward her, stalking low to the ground like a wrestler. “Or not!? I can't Bioscan it! It repels magic!”
“Can't Bioscan it?” That gave us some important information, at least. I struck down, blowing out a whipping thorny cloud of Dark energy that lashed over the ogre's back. Umbra Burst caught the monster's attention, but only did a fraction of its normal damage. “Okay! Physical attacks only!”
Warsinger Page 44